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Misha stands, his hands in his pockets. I can see the worry written all over his face. There’s no point in trying to console him.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Luke says. I turn my head to look at him and he flashes me a sweet, shaky smile.
I swing my legs off the bed, tying my hair up in a ponytail. “How long was I out for?”
“A couple of hours,” Misha says. He leans against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you still tired?”
“Yes,” I say. “Nothing new.”
I’m always tired lately. I don’t know if it’s because of the possession, which hasn’t been sorted out, or just how overwhelming things have gotten lately, but things are hard. If it was just up to me, all I would do was sleep all the time.
But there are still things we need to do.
I can feel my energy waning.
Every day gets a little harder. I feel like I’m in a fog and there’s nothing I can do to get out of it. There’s no end in sight. Exorcising me means that the demons will go elsewhere and I don’t want anyone else to have to deal with this shit.
And ever since Malon has been around—physically around, not just in my dreams or in my head—he hasn’t managed to keep any of this at bay.
I guess I’m glad he’s here, but I can see him getting worried too and that doesn’t bode well for me at all.
People being worried about me is concerning, a literal demon being worried about me is a little more upsetting.
But at least he isn’t here right now. I don’t think the four of them would get along. Malon leaves and I don’t know what he does. I don’t ask and he doesn’t tell me. I don’t think Luke, Rei or Misha are interested. They try not to leave me alone with him. I can tell it’s wearing on him, but I’m too busy worrying about myself to take care of him right now.
I need air.
I can’t be here right now, surrounded by these pitiful looks, with all of them falling over themselves to take care of me. Their care only reminds me that I’m getting worse.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, walking to the door. I can hear them saying something, but I don’t want to listen. I slip out, walk down the driveway, and lean against the fence. A car drives past and the wind picks up as the car stops next to me.
I shield my eyes with the palm of my hand as I watch Malon step out of the car.
“Hi,” he says. “I brought food. I thought you’d be hungry.”
My gaze slides to the brown bags in his hands, the smell of fast food filling the air between us. My stomach grumbles.
“I guess,” I say. “Did you bring food for everyone?”
He shakes his head. “Just the two of us,” he replies. “Do you want to go eat it in the car? It’s a rental.”
I smile at him. “You’re evil.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Surprised to hear it took you this long to realize it.”
“What can I say? I’m slow.”
He cocks his head toward the car. “C’mon,” he says. “You’ll feel better after you eat.”
He opens the passenger door for me. When he hands me the food—I fucking love tacos, but I don’t know if they’re the kind of food you should be eating it in a rental car—he starts the car so that we can feel the air conditioning against our skin.
I guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I’m done eating. I wipe my fingers on brown paper napkins. Mal does the same thing, turning to look at me and flashing me a warm smile, his green eyes glinting. “You have a bit more color in your cheeks,” he says as I crumple up the bag. “Didn’t seem to do anything for the shadows under your eyes.”
“Don’t you know I’m sick?” I say. “They keep saying it’s getting worse.”
“Do you feel like it is?”
“Yeah,” I say, shrugging. “But the worst part is that I can see it getting to them, too. I don’t know. Maybe this is stupid of me but I kind of feel like I shouldn’t be around them.”
